


A Part of Your History You'll Never Remember

by Ellenyx (klahiie)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 10:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15410658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klahiie/pseuds/Ellenyx
Summary: Back in 2011 I began writing a story about Ellenyx Fairbourne, a girl accepted into Hogwarts at the age of 16. She encountered strife and hardship, discovered friends, love and most importantly, the truth about her family. This is the story of how it was meant to be. Justice given to those who have waited so long for me to finish it. I hope I've done it justice.Original Summary:Ellenyx is new to Hogwarts. After being placed in Slytherin she becomes severely bullied and the only person she feels safe around is the one person people fear the most at Hogwarts. Professor Snape. Starts off During the 3rd book. First fanfic. Pls RVU





	1. Chapter 1

A Part of Your History You'll Never Remember  
by Ellenyx 

Prologue

 

She listened to the sound of the television running in the background. Dull noise filled with bouts of static that had become a part of her every day. Even when she closed her eyes she still heard the sound of the crackling television.  
  
Pulling her hands from the sudsy water, she turned the faucet on. The water came out a gush of brown for just a moment, filled with rust from old plumbing lines that have long since needed repair or replacing before going clear enough to rinse the soap from her cracking hands. Above the crackling television was the sound of murmuring that was also familiar to her. Like the sound of a ticking clock; incoherent muttering with no syllables, no words -or so she believed.  
  
“Supper will be ready in a moment.” She called into the other room, but not loud enough to startle the old man who sat and rocked back and forth in the tattered old recliner. She looked back at him, greasy looking red hair draped over her shoulders.  
  
She could see the vacant look in the man's eyes, his fingers twitching against the arm of the seat, scratching at the worn fabric. “Did you hear me-” She was interupted when an owl landed on the tree branch just outside the dirty, finger print stained, crack adorned window over the sink. Too small to fit through, too old to open any farther than what was big enough to fit an arm through. Her eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why there was an owl in the middle of the day time, but even more so, it seemed to have a letter in it's beak.  
  
She didn't know if there were any people on the back country roads who owned owls, or let alone had trained them to be carrier birds, as she rarely left the house save to do grocery shopping to take care of her father and mother. It looked at her for a moment, head tilting from one side to the other, then extended it's wings and fluttered, wedging the letter through the opening, getting the corners caught up in scrapped up screen.  
She lashed out, grabbing the letter before the breeze shook it free of it's wire webbing and pulled it through the large hole. On the front of the letter written in green ink, ascribed in Calligraphy was the address of the home, and her name at the top. She stared at it, eyebrows furrowing, lips parted as her eyes skimmed the coat of arms at the top of the envelope.  
Her eyes flickered back up to the window where the owl had roosted wondering who the bird belonged to, and why they had sent her this piece of parcel. Was it a hoax? Was it chain mail? They certainly had gone out of their way to make this seem very unique.  
  
Licking her lips, she flipped the letter over, looking at the wax seal on the back. She wasn't sure if she should open it -for all she knew it could have been an anthrax bomb waiting to blow up in her face and kill her and everyone in the house who came into contact with it. But curiosity got the better of her.  
  
Hooking her thumb under the seal, she pulled it up and pulled the yellowish tinted parchment paper out. Unfolding it, she turned it around, eyes drawn to the large font letters at the top of the page that read Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had no idea why she had received something so ridiculous, and in such an outlandish way, but it wasn't enough to keep her eyes from skimming the rest of the writing.

 

“Dear Ellenyx Fairbourne, 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Students shall be required  
to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival. We await your owl  
no later than 31 July.

Please make your way to Kings Crossing Station and onto platform 9 ¾  
where you will meet the Hogwarts Express. Term begins on 1 September.

We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation  
of Hogwarts Heritage. 

Due to forseen events, we welcome you to our family as it is now your time. 

Yours Sincerely, 

Albus Dumbledore  
  
Headmaster”

 

 

She was so stunned at the complete and utter preposterous notion that anyone would believe they could con someone into following the instructions in this letter. Hogwarts? Witches? Wizards? All of it was completely insane. Suddenly, there was a screaming. The back door slammed open and her head snapped up, hands dropping the letter to the floor. A woman with shoulders as wide as a suitcase coming in, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot and sunken in around bags of wrinkles. Her heart fluttered as she took a step back, the woman ascending on her quickly.  
  
“What 'ave y'done ta 'im!” She squalled, tall and lanky. A plank of wood would have more curves and definition than this woman; her clothes hanging from her like blown away laundry upon the branches of a gnarled, spindling tree. “What 'ave y'done ta 'im!” She shrieked again, knotted hand lifting.  
  
The girl gasped, stepping back on the cracked linoleum flooring, hands up to hide her face from the collision. The world seemed to slow down around her, her eyes catching the bloodshot, yellows of the woman's dusky gray eyes.  
A fistful of knobby, twisted knuckled came down on her, a tarnished wedding ring decorated in chips and scratched off words promising eternal love catching her forehead and leaving a nasty scrape. Her vision flashed white for a moment as the blunt force pushed down into her eye, her head dipping from the blow.  
  
A loud shattering noise reached her ears, followed by the sound of flesh hitting the floor and immediately, she was filled with terror. Looking up, she saw the twisted body of the woman on the floor, hands over her mouth with horror stricken eyes. The smell of musk and urine reached her nose, and her eyes glided from the stained and cracked black and white checkered flooring to the doorway of the den where she saw the glassy eyed figure of the man who'd left his seat.  
  
He stared at the woman on the floor, a look of confusion on his face; he was desperately trying to place a name with the sallow faced woman on the floor, paling and blank expression minus the gaping mouth of shock.  
  
“Wh-who is tha'?” He asked. “I don't...wh-where is-” He staggered out, his socked feet puttering slowly across the floor. “I-I don't...” He stared at her. For the first time in years, a look of clarity came to those normally blank, lifeless eyes. “Ellen,” His voice quivered. He lowered himself to the floor, hands shaking as he reached for her, his hands gliding across a thick latex band wrapped around the stick thin upper part of a needle pocked arm. “Ellen!” He sobbed, grabbing her and pulling her to his chest.  
  
“I-I'm sorry, I don't- I-I can't,” The girl tried to step forward, hands reaching out to help, but the man pulled away, a look of fear in his eyes as tears raced down the trenches age had left on his face.  
  
“Help!” He started screaming. “Help! We've been attacked!” He shouted, making her jump, breath caught in her throat. “She killed my wife! Heelp!” She stepped away from him, terrified of his shouting, she looked out the window. The neighbor stepped out onto his steps, a look of confusion on his face as the old man sat on his knees, holding the corpse of his wife. Bending down, she grabbed the letter, taking a couple steps back when a glass mug went flying towards her, shattering against the wall behind her.  
  
She yelped, hiding behind her arms as the man continued screaming. Knowing her presence was only going to make things worse, she turned and made her way through the small home, ducking through the low door frames and out the front door, the sound of his screaming following her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the death of her foster mother and the admission of her foster father, she turns to Hogwarts and their headmaster Dumbledore to ask why she was chosen and how he knew she existed.

 

**Chapter 1**

 

 

The train pulled up to the station, her hair a flooding red mess of fiery tendrils across her shoulders and down her back. People lined up from one end of the walk to the other, all lined up to board. She stared down at the paper in her hand, filled with disbelief at where she stood now.

It had been months since the incident, and every dream she had was still plagued with the image of the woman on the floor. Her cold dead eyes staring at the ceiling, her husband screaming for someone to help. The blame; he _blamed_ her for her death.

After the police had showed up, Ellen had been taken to the hospital and declared dead of a drug overdose; her husband, John, was declared unfit to take care of himself due to his Alzheimer's and was put into a nursing home where he would be taken care of. Not being of age yet, the Ellenyx was taken in and put back up for fostering. It was by mistake that one of the foster parents had seen the letter she clutched desperately to her chest.

Before she knew it, she was surrounded by children 6 years younger than her, all dressed in black robes, running around with owls and brooms and books and cauldrons. She spun, feeling sick as she watched the swirling of her fever dream manifest and guide her along the heels of the woman she didn't even know the name of.

She looked at the trolley's of luggage being loaded up onto the train, her fingers flexing as she stood there with nothing. Nothing but the dusty robes left for her in a store she couldn't even remember the name of.

The train blew it's horn, making her jump and her eyes dropped once more to the letter. The woman she'd met was gone; she was long since abandoned, and lost and confused. She felt sick to her stomach, spinning in circles.

A body hit her, making her stumble forward, her breath catching for a split moment before it began again in double time, nails digging holes through the parchment paper in her hands. Her eyes skimmed the crowd again, watching parents hug and kiss their kids goodbye before they boarded the train. She felt loneliness and hurt as she watched them.

When she was younger, she remembered John and Ellen as being decent parents. Sweet for the most parts if not poor. They didn't have much of a choice, having been originally adopted by Ellen's sister before a horrible car accident that left Ellenyx homeless, she was brought in by the old couple.

She slept in the basement with the bare essentials, but they weren't bad to her. Not at the beginning.

It wasn't until John had begun to lose who he was that Ellen turned to drugs. It was all to help calm her nerves and so she could cope with the slow loss of the man she'd been with since middle school. But as he slipped further away, so did she. She began to become abusive, and when Nyx was old enough to start taking care of the house and herself, she began to take care of her caregivers.

“Move!” A voice interrupted her reflection, pushing her through the crowd and towards the train. She gasped, trying to find a way to slip through the grasp, but by the time she was able to roll away from the palm pressed firmly in between her shoulder blades, she was already at the threshold of the train. One more good shove and she was in.

She turned to try and leave again, but the boy behind her pushed her again, angry with the resistance she was putting up, blocking the flow of traffic.

He was an older boy, maybe 17 years old and he wore a blue and white striped tie with a blue lined set of robes, a patch of a coat of arms decorated with a crow on the breast. He had reddish brown hair and a strong jaw.

Trying to step out of the way again, a small voice in the back of her head questioned why she was fighting so hard to get off the train again. Where would she go? She was stuck in a public agency that would scroll through a lottery of unlucky people who would end up stuck with her for the next couple of years -or until she decided to become independent herself. Why not just go with the flow? Stay on the train and stick the ride out until the end of the line.

Maybe the person on the other end of this train ride would be able to answer a few questions; like why she got one of these letters to begin with, and what she was supposed to do. Even if this school was for 'wizards', she wasn't one of them. She'd never done magic, she'd never owned an owl or flown on a broom. She wasn't one of these people.

But she had nowhere to go.

Stepping off to the side, she slid into an empty cart and sat down, heart pounding in her chest. Her mind was completely blank as the rest of the children filed on, someone shouting for everyone to sit and that the train was going to be moving.

With a hiss, the train kicked into motion, her eyes closing, fingertips digging into the cushion of the seats she sat on, tears hitting her cheeks. The reality of everything was beginning to hit her. She was on a train, surrounded by children.

She had no where to go home to.

She had no idea what waited for her on the other end of this ride.

 

 

 

 

**_A Part of Your History You'll Never Remember_ **

 

 

 

 

She was silent the entire ride, staring out the window as others ran up and down the halls. For a few moments, a couple girls popped their heads in, asking if it was ok to sit with her, but she didn't respond. Without confirmation, they abandoned attempt and moved on to the next car.

She stared at the rolling hills, lined with trees as the sun began to set. Hours rolled by, and some children decided to sleep or chatter or take food from the trolly that passed, a woman asking if she wanted anything to eat. Another question she left unanswered as she awaited what waited for her on the other end of this trip.

When the train finally pulled into the station, the other students rushed to get their belongings and evacuate the train. She sat there, not moving as the once noisy train grew quiet. It wasn't until a man in a yellow trimmed robe stopped outside her door, motioning for her to get up, his eyes soft, but his features authoritative.

“Come on, you can't start classes without getting off the train.” He replied. She didn't say anything, looking back at him with bloodshot eyes, stained tear marks down her cheeks. She sniffled a little, standing. He gave her a confused look but said nothing as he ushered her out of the train and onto the platform, making her join the students once more. Being shuffled in with the other students, she hesitantly followed them to a group of boats and climbed in.

It was surreal. Like a dream, or for a brief moment, she believed that these boats were to take her across the River Styx. Maybe she had died? Maybe this was her trip to the underworld?

Her fingers dug into the seats as the boats steered themselves across the lake towards a huge castle. All of the children were in awe, staring at the large structure in wonder. All except for her.

All of this was too much. Torn away from the only family she'd ever known, forced onto a train by a cultist who recognized the same chain letter her own child had received, tossed onto a train and taken to the middle of nowhere. It was just too much to handle, and she felt herself needing to hold her breath, brain telling her lungs to calm down as they threatened to send her into a fit of hyperventilation.

Once the boats came to a stop, the other students filed out and onto the docks. She would have continued to sit there if not for the fact that her idling was blocking a handful of other students needing to get off the boats, so she begrudgingly climbed off, following the students up the dock and up the path to the castle.

They all stopped in an area at the top of a set of stairs, met with an older woman with stern eyes and a back as rigid as the stone walls of the castle itself. The group stared up at her, chattering falling quiet as she held her hands in front of her, hair pulled back into a tight bun. It took only a couple of moments of scrutinizing the group before her before the older woman spoke, voice filled with as much dignity as reflected in her appearance.

“Welcome to Hogwarts.” She greeted, firmly. “Now, in a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses.” She hesitated. The news made the girls forehead crinkle. Usually, tests were taken to determine which class or group a student was going to go into. That could take a while to get the results for.

“They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.” She spoke again, her eyes falling on the tallest of the first years; a fact that Ellenyx was just realizing that among all of the students she stood among, she was obviously the oldest and tallest. She began to feel humiliated, wondering if maybe most of these children were _supposed_ to have received their letter at a much younger age. This immediately opened up questions such as; if she were supposed to get a letter from the beginning, why did she get hers when she was 16 instead of the 10 or 11 year olds around her. “Now, while you're here your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup.”

Everyone around her was quiet as she spoke. Only a couple kids towards the back of the group chattered amongst themselves as two boys her own age -or maybe a little younger- walked past them and up the stairs to the door the woman stood in front of. One of them was tall and thin with ginger hair. He had a hand-me-down look that she could understand. The only clothing item she owned herself was a corset she'd received from corset training when she was enrolled in etiquette training. It was a single year's worth of it -Ellen's idea- but she still wore it. Her back hurt less with it on than if it was off. The rest of her wardrobe consisted of worn sweaters that John surrendered, or tattered pants put out for free at rummage sales. The other boy had dark brown hair and glasses.

“Hello Professor McGonagall.” The boy with the glasses greeted, a friendly smile on his face. She returned it, turning to look at them.

“Hello Mister Potter and Mister Weasley.” She bowed her head a little, patting them on the back as they made to pass her.

“Can I ask you a couple of questions?” He asked, his eyes flickering to the tallest girl in the crowd and Ellenyx could feel her humiliation once again.

“Of course, Mister Potter.” Turning, she looked at the group of new students, hand resting on the teens shoulder and addressed the first years once more. “The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily.” With that, she turned, ushering the boy through the doors, leaving the ginger boy behind with the group of new children.

She couldn't do this.

Holding her breath -as if breathing were to help her become invisible to the group of people around her-, she stepped back, slipping quietly from the ranks of new comers and separating herself. She turned and looked around the large stone room she stood in, debating on slipping back out to get some fresh air when a voice startled her, shaking her from her thoughts.

“Hey,” She whirled around, eyes falling on the ginger boy that had accompanied the boy with the glasses. Just as quickly as her gaze found his, she averted it to the floor, lips pressed in a tight line. “You're a first year?” He asked. It seemed almost shy, his hands finding his pockets, eyes filled with curiosity. She didn't answer right away, staring off at nothing, but making sure that he wasn't in between her gaze and said nothing.

“Yeah.” She whispered after a couple of moments of silence.

“You're a bit old for a first year, aren't you?” He cocked an eyebrow, lips pursing and twisting off to the side as he shifted his weight.

“I didn't have a choice.” She replied flatly, trying to hide the hurt behind stiff words.

“Oh, uh,” He shifted awkwardly, shaking his head a bit to flip his hair out of his face a little. “My name is Ron, Ron Weasley.” He held his hand out to her. She looked at it for a moment, and as she made a small move to take it, he gave his palm a quick wipe. She didn't want to tell him her name, but he'd just given her his name, and she was raised with manners, if nothing else.

 

“Ellenyx.” She replied, giving his freshly wiped off hand a light shake. “Ellenyx Fairbourne.”

“Ellenyx?” He chuckled, his eyes almost sparkling when she complied and gave him a response. “That's an odd name.”

“It's better than Ron.” She shot back, feeling irritated with the offensive responses. Not that he'd done it on purpose -and she knew that, she just didn't care at the moment. She was in a strange place, surrounded by things she wasn't even sure was real, wanting to just wake up from this nightmare.

“Everything is better than Ron.” An unwelcomed voice intruded on their otherwise private discussion, making her whirl around. Her eyes fell upon a tall, skinny blonde boy with hair so light it looked almost white. He had fair skin and a look on his face that seemed painfully twisted into a permanent sneer.

“Malfoy.” The name rolled from the gingers tongue like a foul tasting treat, spit into the dirt at their toes.

“Weasley.” The blonde replied, sneer chipping away at his stiffened mask of perpetual, egotistical fortitude as his eyes rolled from the ginger to the girl. He didn't say anything for a second, but she could tell by the way the boys lips twitched and eyes narrowed just ever so slightly that he was going to. After a second, he laughed lightly, not bothering to look back in the ginger boys direction as he addressed him. “What's this, Weasley? Finally talking to your own kind?” He spat.

Nyx was confused for a moment, wondering what sort of tepid insult that was supposed to be as the comment segwayed into a thorough glimpse of her being. From her head to her feet, he looked her up and down before deciding to enlighten them as to what he'd meant. “Filthy, greasy red hair, dirty, dusty skin. Fat lips. Not to mention tall and gangly like a troll.” He nearly lost it but held back his pall of laughter so it wasn't lost in the dramatic delivery of his bullying.

It took all of the energy she had to keep her jaw from dropping, the words stabbing into her like various punches to the heart. She ground her teeth, fighting the tears that took liberty in flooding her eyes.

“Shut your mouth, Malfoy.” Ron raised his voice, speaking up on her behalf, eyes narrowing.

“Or you'll do what, Weasley?” The blond turned on him, eyes finally releasing her from their suffocating gaze. “Sic your snaggle toothed girlfriend on me?” He gave a sour laugh, shoving past the two of them and making his way in through the doors, the friends she hadn't realized were a part of his posse clamoring behind him like gorillas dragging their knuckles along the ground.

As he shuffled in, the woman who had previously instructed them as to what would happen returned, her eyes sharp on him as he bumped her to get past. A display of dominance she was non-too thrilled with judging by the obvious offense on her face.

“Mister Weasley,” She called, the ginger looking up from where he stood, lips parting just a little. “Can you accompany Mister Potter to the Great Hall?” She stepped off to the side, motioning without further movement where to go.

Ron didn't move right away, mouth hanging open as he stared at her, then his head turned, glancing back at the girl who had just been insulted by -apparently- the schools largest asshole. He chewed on his lip a little, lips twisting off to the side of his mouth as if ashamed of them. His eyes dropped from the ground back up to her face.

“Don't listen to anything Malfoy says,” He breached the silence after a second. “He's a bloody idiot.”

“You don't have to worry about me.” She replied, her voice as quiet as it had always been, eyes averted so they wouldn't catch his as she tried everything in her power to shake those horrid words from her head. The insults bouncing from one wall of her mind to the other, leaving cracks along it's foundation as it ricocheted. “It won't be a problem for long.”

He didn't say anything else, looking at her a little confused at first but he never questioned it. Turning, he made his way back to the door, slipping through to join the boy with the dark hair and glasses once more and leaving her alone at the back of a group of children where she'd been not long before he arrived.

“Alright,” She turned back to face the first years, a small smile on her face. “we're ready for you. Follow me.” Turning, she opened the doors, heading through and into a large room. She begrudgingly followed the other first years, her long legs forcing her to take smaller steps so as not to overcome the steps of the much smaller legs around her. “Will you wait along here, please.” She motioned to the large space in the center of the room. The tall ceiling spanning on forever, four massive rows of tables on either side of the walkway, already occupied by older students, all decorated in their house colors. At the front of the room ahead of them was a long row of tables, and behind them in high backed, throne like chairs were adults. Stern, jolly, short, dark. An array of expression and personality bubbling forth, adding more color to this ridiculous rodeo.

She could only guess what was going to happen, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind. Her heart tight in her chest.

Her eyes rolled across the line of adults ahead of them until they reached a man close to the end. He was pale with black, greasy looking hair and a large nose. His body adorned in tight cloth that almost resembled silk and hidden beneath the billowing of loose robes. Their eyes connected and they stared at each other, the words the woman ahead of them speaking almost no longer registering until a man in a gray outfit stood, his white beard billowing down the front of him and neatly tied at the end. He had kindly eyes behind a pair of old looking glasses and a gentleness in the way he moved as he stepped forward toward a podium standing tall before the group.

“I have a few start-of-term notices that I wish to announce.” He began, his voice as soft as his eyes, and whispy almost like a soft breeze in a canopy of trees in summertime. But there was a tinge to it, like thunder rumbling in the distance, mighty and full of authority. “The first years please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students.” He announced, her eyebrows furrowing, wondering just how many dangerous things there were in this school. “Also, if found outside of your rooms at night past curfew, you will be strictly punished with either detention or what your house headmasters deem necessary, withing reason. Thank you.”

Without much else, he turned and took his seat again, handing the spotlight over to the woman who'd lead them this far. She stepped forward, a scroll in her hand and Ellenyx couldn't believe she was standing here. She was actually standing here, listening to this, playing along.

“When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat upon your head, and you will be sorted into your houses.” The students murmured, looking from one another back to a large brown hat that perched on a stool. The girl didn't have a chance to think negatively about the task at hand before the older woman's eyes flickered from the long list of names and announced her name. “Ellenyx Fairbourne.”

Her blood ran cold. The children around her stopped chatting, all eyes turning to look at her. All eyes in the Great Hall settled on her and she felt as if she were stuck there, holding the stone ceiling itself high above her head. She heard the quiet exchange of why a girl as old as she was, was doing with the first years.

Taking a deep breath, she clasped her eyes shut tightly, swallowing the swelling heart in her throat. She forced her feet to move forward, one step at a time till she came to the stool.

The woman gave her a kind smile and lifted the hat, giving her a place to sit her bottom. Turning, she grabbed the wooden seat and shimmied in, eyes cast to the floor as the hat was placed on her head. She expected a little bit of deliberation, some chattering between the woman behind her and the teachers at the table, but when the hat jolted to life, boisterous voice booming in her ears, she gasped.

“Ah, look what we have here.” She screamed, heart skipping a beat and a little wave of laughter erupted among the house, the older woman beside her also giving a light giggle. Humiliated, terrified and exhausted, she hid her face in her hands as the hat itself also laughed. “Sorry for the scare.” The pointed piece of fabric apologized, leaning down as if trying to look in her face. “Not very accustomed to magic, are we.” He tisked, clicking his non-existent tongue a couple of times. “Raised away from the world you belong in; the world your mother wanted you to very much be a part of.” He hummed. “What you see terrifies you, doesn't it.”

“Can we just get a move on.” She muttered, slowly pulling her hands from her face.

“A move on? How is that possible when there's so much to see, and it's so easy to see, right here, swimming around in your head.” He moved, words sounding like the sweet poison off a bad guys tongue. “So many talents, so many qualities. Your mother was particularly difficult to place too. Do you know where she ended up?” He asked, voice sounding as if he were trying to tempt her into curiosity.

“No offense,” She replied, hands dropping to her lap. “I don't care who my parents are, they've had no part in my life and they most likely never will. I just want to get this over with so I can speak to Dumbledore about how he knows me, how he knew where I lived and why I was chosen to come here.” She spoke, voice low and passive. A participant unwilling to play in the game the way the hat designed it to be played.

“Very well.” He huffed shortly, wiggling a little on her head. “You're much too sharp tongued for a Ravenclaw, even if you have the wit to match even the best of them. Too much potential. You're very well disciplined, and here I see in your head, _cunning_.” He trailed off. She waited, the silence that had fallen over the room beginning to make her pounding heart sound deafening in her ears. She ground her teeth, fighting the urge to shout at the hat to hurry and choose a place for her, and as that urge began to bubble up to the point where it was about to boil over, it made it's announcement, shouting loud for the room to hear. “Slytherin!”

The room clapped, the sound of applause like ice cubes tossed into her fire. Sighing, she stood, the hat plucked from her head and she descended the couple of steps and made her way for the table a boy stood from, holding his arm out to guide her.

She found a spot on the bench, as far away from the other students as the table would allow so she could preserve her personal space, but a leg entered from her peripheral, lifting and stretching over the bench, a bottom hitting the seat beside her. “Well, well, well, if it isn't Nox.” The slimy sound of Malfoy's voice slithered its way into her ear, her eyes rolling back into her head as her eyes closed.

“It's Nyx.” She tried to correct him, but she knew that deep down inside, it was a wasted effort. Any attempt at civil discussion with him was a waste of time, and she knew that now.

“No, I believe it's Nox.” He grinned as two more bodies joined him, a heavy bottom plopping down hard enough to shake the bench on the other side of her, her breath caught in her throat as she feared for a moment that the bench may break and she would be sent tumbling to the floor. “Short for Noxious.” He leaned in, elbow on the table, snicker at his lips.

She ground her teeth, feeling her eyes water again, fists clenching as the urge to let them fly and collide with that smart mouth of his. “Listen,” He slid forward, his knees touching the outside of her thigh, legs spread so one leg rested on one side of the bench and the other on the other side, much like her were straddling a bicycle. “You may be a Slytherin, but just because we're in the same house doesn't mean I have to like you.” He whispered, face just inches from hers. She hated it.

His being so close made her feel like any privacy the distance between her and him she had was gone. His face peering right inside of her so he could see every tiny detail. Every tear that welled up, every scratch, crack and cut on her self esteem he had made. It took all of her will power to keep from losing it, avoiding eye contact with him, teeth clenching the soft flesh of the inside of her lower lip. Reaching up, he flicked her forehead before laughing, making her flinch. “Remember that.”

Pushing himself to his feet, he motioned the other two who had just sat down and begun picking at the magical spread of food across the table to follow him. They gave each other a quick glance before pushing themselves to their feet, toddling off after their scrawny friend. When they were finally away, she inhaled, the fresh air pushing the tears that took up so much room, sending them rolling down her cheeks.

She lowered her head to the table, hiding her face the best she could as her bottom lip trembled. She ignored the announcements of the other students, finding their houses or the older students relishing their enjoyment. She didn't even see the spread of food that appeared across their table from nowhere shortly after the announcement of food given by Dumbledore himself.

“Move, don't get your hair in the food!” A girl's voice tore her back to reality, an elbow digging into her arm a little, but she didn't lift her head. Not right away.

Without a response, she pushed herself to her feet, red hair hanging in her face like the vines of a weeping willow.

She'd had less than a handful of hours in this 'magical' place, and she was already sick of it. Sick of the people, sick of the scares and the negativity. She bustled down the aisle of the great hall and towards the door they'd come in, pushing it open and slipping out. No one would notice she was gone anyway.

Her feet continued to guide her the way she came until she came to the outside. She stopped, eyes looking up at the dark sky, littered with stars and the bright moon. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her quivering lungs, but all she could do was reflect on everything. The death of Ellen, the lack of sleep she'd had over the last few weeks, and now trapped in this madness like Alice in Wonderland.

Turning, she looked around for just a moment, her eyes landing on a bench. She took a seat on it, face in her hands as the emotions she'd attempted to stifle for the last couple of weeks burst, shattering the dams.

She sobbed, pulling her knees to her chest, fingers lacing through her hair as she rocked. She wanted to wake up. She wanted to open her eyes and find herself on the concrete floor on the thin mat she called a bed, surrounded by worn papers she'd spent countless hours jotting down stories and concept arts.

Lost worlds, daring deeds, myths and legends.

All of it seemed so cheap now. All of it seemed so fake and tainted.

After what felt like only a few minutes, she reigned in her emotions, sniffing back her sorrow, only for a quick smack upside the back of the head. She gasped, vision flashing white for a second as her hands shot to the back of her head. She whirled around, ready to deck the blond little piece of shit for getting physical with her, but stopped when she found herself staring into the black eyes of the man in black, his arms crossed across his chest.

“May I ask what you're doing out here?” He questioned, voice short, punctual and sharp. She reached back, hand cupping the stinging area where his hand collided. She'd meant to give him an answer, but instead, a question of her own left her lips.

“May _I_ ask why you hit me?” She looked at him. The expression on his face was subtle, but it melted like the face of a wax statuette. Lashing his hand out, he snatched her by the arm, plucking her from the bench, fingertips digging into her so deep it felt as if he were going to bruise the bone.

Her jaw dropped, mouth opening as she tried to switch to her tippy toes and alleviate some of the pain, but it did nothing. He dragged her along, his footsteps brisk, strides long and nearly dragging her behind him.

“It is past curfew, you are supposed to be in bed and asleep.” She had no idea where he was taking her. All she saw were messes of stairs and doors. She felt herself getting lost with each new twist and turn they took.

“Where are you taking me?” She squeaked, her fingers on his, trying to get him to loosen his grip as her fingertips on that arm began to numb. “Who even are you and what makes you think you manhandle me like this?”

She was yanked to a stop, her feet wanting to continue going, but her shoulders were jerked to a stop so fast she nearly got whiplash. She was yanked around so she was facing him, eye to eye with the man.

“Who am _I_?” He snarled, both hands on her now, holding her still. She felt her heart skip a beat -or fall dead all together. He gave her a sharp little shake, scaring a gasp laden whine from her lips before he pulled his stiff, frigid fingers from her arms. “I am Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house.” He snipped, his words filling her with dread. Of course he was. Of course this tight ass was her house master. “I suggest you get educated on where you are and who you're surrounded by before you decide to open your mouth.” He snatched her arm again. Turning, he pulled her forward so they were both looking at the wall. “ _Pure blood_.” He growled.

She looked from him to the wall in confusion when the concealed door made itself present. She opened her mouth to question the choice of password, but he was already shoving her inside. “If it were up to me,” He grabbed her arm, yanking her so she couldn't go in completely, whirling her around to look at him, her mouth open as her face twisted at the premature bruising forming beneath his fingertips. “I would have you expelled and put you on the next train home. I suggest you tread carefully.”

She stared into his eyes as he threatened her, feeling a bubble of anger as the tears welled up in her eyes again. Yanking her arm from his grip, she stepped back so he couldn't grab her again should he feel compelled to.

“By all means, you find me a home to send me back to, and I'll pay for that ticket myself, _Professor_.” Grabbing the door, she shut it in his face and turned, making a run for the common rooms, stopping only when she was faced with which passage she should take to which room. Ignoring the others in the common room, chattering away, she made her way up the steps a young girl came down, nearly shoving past her.

There was one bed left in the dormitory, and she guessed that would be for her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her nerves before she could start crying again, but in the end, failed. Walking over, she dropped to the floor, dragging the blanket and pillow down with her, curling up beneath the fancy cloth.

Everyone else seemed so happy to be here, but she was miserable.

She had nothing to look forward to, nothing that made her happy here, no wonder, no friends, nothing.

In the morning, she'd seek out Dumbledore and speak with him.

She'd find a way home.

She'd find a home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

She woke up to idle shuffling and hushed voices, but when she decided to open her eyes she was in the dormitory alone. Wincing, she sat up, fingers digging into the lacing of the corset she stupidly kept on.

She normally didn't fall asleep with it on -as it was dangerous; running the risk of being constricted and unable to breathe halfway through the night, or her intestines being crushed. It was stupid of her. But she justified it by saying it wasn't tied tight enough to hurt anything permanently; it was just for her posture.

Stiffly, she pushed herself off the floor, using the stripped bed beside her as leverage. Brushing her skirt down, she grabbed the dusty robes left to her and pulled them back on.

She looked like a mess, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to go along with the flow here, not right now. Instead, she was going to find Dumbledore and speak with him.

Of course, that would be easier said than done.

Heading from the dormitory, she slipped out of the common room and stared at where she was. She had no idea where to go or what room went where. Chewing on her bottom lip, she began to wander, trying to read the doors.

No windows on solid wooden doors caused a problem, and she had no real option but to try and peak through the keyholes as if she could see all the way through. Unfortunately, the first keyhole she peered through lead straight to a black, fabric bundle, her eyebrows furrowing.

Suddenly the door whipped open, giving way under her palms and she stumbled, cheek hitting a belt before she pulled back, staring at the man who had shown nothing but aggression towards her last night.

"Miss Fairbourne." He spat. "You're late." His pale, long digits grabbed her, dragging her along. She gasped, hands shooting up to grab his wrist as she struggled against him.

"St-stop." She twisted, the motion causing the fabric of her shirt to bunch and twist his fingers up. He snapped his fingers out of the confines of her shirt, growling in anger. She stepped back, an attempt to keep him from grabbing at her again, and that was when her eyes caught a handful of students behind him, all sitting at their desks, now staring. Her mouth opened, prepared to speak as she turned to look at every other student, staring at with stern, cold eyes for interrupting their lesson.

"I-I'm not," she shook her head, words barely a whisper. "I'm not supposed to be in this class." Her eyes flickered back to him.

"Sit." He spat, pointing.

"I have nothing." She insisted, heart pounding in her chest.

"Your failure is not the classes problem," he countered. "Sit."

"I'm not supposed to be here-" he flicked his wand. Magic grabbed her, yanking her into nearest seat before turning, robes billowing as he made his way to the front of the class.

"I think you'll find, Fairbourne, that as the Professor of this class," he stopped and turned on his heel as he reached the front of the room. "I am well versed as to whom should or shouldn't be wasting my time." He glared at her. "Class, open your books to page two hundred and ninety two."

Ellenyx tried to shake off her stun, looking back at the other students as they pulled out thick textbooks and began to open to their pages. She was about to speak when a pale hand slammed a book onto her desk in front of her, making her jump, a couple giggles escaping the back of the class. Violet eyes shot up to the tall, intimidating man before her, lips parting.

He was sort of attractive, pale skin, dark eyes and a big nose that made his face look haggard, but there were things about him that made him sort if beautiful. His thick, curled lashes, his widespread cupids bow of his upper lip, and those sad, sad eyes. A man who had been hurt too many times.

He felt the book hit her chest, snapping her out of her thoughts by knocking the wind from her lungs. "I trust you know how to count, Fairbourne?" With that, he was making his way back to the front of the class.

Frowning, she laid the book back down and opened it, looking at a diagram of the effects of a potion. Although it seemed as if nothing in this entire place made sense, she continued to stare at the diagram.

Certain plants; Padamora and Lilium Asphar were common ingredients used in potions for physical alterations on minor levels. She flipped back to the beginning of the chapter, skimming through the reading as he spoke, filling in the class on what they had learned the year before -which was all foreign to her.

She was supposed to be a first year, but she was sitting in on a class of forth years. She had no idea what they had done, or really what this class was. After a moment, it began to register to her what this class was supposed to achieve, and the calling of her name.

It wasn't until the book snapped shut on her fingers that she look up, yelping.

Pulling her fingers from the binding of the book, she sucked on them, looking up to the front of the room confused when her eyes fell on the seemingly, always angry professor. He said nothing as all of the other students turned to stare at her, making her skin prickle up the back of her neck.

"Someone as clueless as you, Miss Fairbourne, should have purchased the book and caught up on the material last night instead of waiting till I was giving _instruction."_ He snipped, fingertips pressed together.

"Had I the money I would have, sir." She replied, his face twitching in aggravation at her constant need for a response. In a matter of seconds, he was ascending on her, his steps long and powerful. She winced as he loomed over her, his hand on the back of her head making her stiffen up, back arched a bit.

"Keep giving cheeky responses, Fairbourne, I'll see you out sooner than you can wag a quill at." He shoved her head forward, her eyes closed. She knew she was pushing it, but she couldn't stop herself. As he turned his back on her and began to make his descent back to the front of the room, she smirked.

"May I borrow a quill, sir?" There was a small gasp as he stopped dead in his tracks. He turned, glaring at her with the burning hatred of a roaring fire.

"15 points from Slytherin." There was a loud, angry groan from every Slytherin in the room, the girls smile vanishing.

"What? For a joke?" She spoke. A piece of paper smacked her in the back of the head, making her turn to look at the hand who threw it.

"For obstructing learning, Miss Fairbourne. For wasting my time and every other students time in here." He reiterated, breaking it down. "You know far too little about potions to be a class clown, Miss Fairbourne. I suggest you keep your mouth closed and learn something." Turning he turned his focus back on his lesson. "I know everyone is quite upset at Miss Fairbourne for losing Slytherin 15 points. I'm feeling sympathetic; I will ask a series of questions based on the chapter. For each question answered, you'll get a point to your house." His eyes flickered up to the class. "Ready?"

She slunk down in her seat a little, staring at the desk as the other students around her prepared for the assemblage of questions he would be asking them for the meager points he offered.

"I am making a potion that will allow me to drop my body temperature and become one on a physical level as ice, snow, frozen water." He began, pacing slowly back and forth, eyes on the students at their desks as his fingertips touched. "The ingredient is found on the surface of a lake, but can only achieve this property if used frozen in nature. What ingredient is it?" Her head snapped up, her hand shooting into the air. His eyes narrowed as he continued pacing. "Hand down Fairbourne." He demanded, but she refused, her hand in the air still.

"I know the answer." She replied. A couple students glanced back at her, a hissed whisper in her ear for her to put her hand down and to stop making things worse for them, but she persisted.

"You know nothing, put your hand down, or I'll take 30 points from Slytherin." He stopped, eyes focused on her sternly.

"Put your hand down." The boy next to her snipped.

"I know the bloody answer!" She snipped back. "Let me answer the bloody question. If I get it wrong, you can take the 30 points from me, but if I get it right give Slytherin a point." She nearly pleaded, hand refusing to drop. That was an offer the professor paused on; from his stance, she was a new student who was supposed to be a first year wanting to answer a question the students he had been teaching for four years couldn't answer. He was positive she would fail this, and Slytherin would be down 30 points extra.

"Fine." He replied, head twitching as he stood up straight, a groan leaving the lips of her fellow housemates. "Your, undoubtably _wrong_ answer, Miss Fairbourne." She felt that insult burn into her and she was desperate to shoot him down. She'd show him, knock him down a couple of pegs.

"The answer is lilium lacus asphar." She answered, everyone silent as they waited for the 30 points to be taken.

"Why?" He shot.

"Lilium lacus Asphar, also known as lily of the lake has properties that magically challenge physical attributes to a human body based on the the environment it was removed out of. If it's frozen, it changes your bodies molecular construct to mirror ice or icy conditions. If burned, it changes your bodies molecular construct to mirror fire or heat." She replied.

"I'm looking for an ingredient that can replace lilium lacus asphar as a substitute or as a bolstering agent." He shot, turning to face her in his own private one on one show down.

"Padamora." She answered quickly without taking the time to think about.

"Where is Padamora located?"

"Along sides of frozen ponds. They don't grow outside of an 8 meter radius making locations to find it more difficult." She shifted, hoping she was at least getting the answers right.

"Why does Padamora's location rely on the location of Lilium Lacus Asphar." He shot. She froze, the question not in the reading, but he seemed content on asking it. She didn't answer right away, looking down at her hands for a moment. He snorted a little, turning to head to a table decorated in an array of beakers.

She couldn't help but feel a bubbling inside her, words pushing up through her throat, prying her lips apart like fingers reaching up and extending from deep down inside of her. He was about to write down the points lost when she answered.

"Because Lilium drops Padamora seeds once they bloom on the lakes surface. The seed roots into the ground and travels inland till it meets another body of water. If it reaches 8 meters away and there isn't another body of water, the Padamora dies, and so does the Lily." She answered.

He stopped, his head turning back, hand frozen in the air as he stared at her. She wasn't sure she was right. She was fairly positive she was wrong. After a moment though, he lowered his hand and faced the class, dismissing them in a quiet voice. The students didn't get up right away, staring at the scene before them, but not wanting to encourage the wrath of their potions teacher, they gathered their things and began leaving.

As she followed suit, he addressed her, giving a flick of his wand to yank the book from her hands. "You're staying, Miss Fairbourne." He snatched the book out of the air, pointing to a stool as he gave a flick of his wand, pulling it to his desk. She hesitated, biting her bottom lip, but she didn't linger for too long.

Standing, she made her way down to the front of the room. Carefully, she took a seat on the stool and looked at him.

"Am I in trouble, Professor?." She questioned, keeping her eyes averted.

"Where did you learn that?" He ignored her question, intruding the silence with a question of his own. It was firm, curious, but over all, suspicious. "You said you have no knowledge of the wizarding world, but you knew all of that." He stared at her, holding the book tightly.

"I skimmed the chapter." She replied, looking at the book, hands in her lap.

"No one can skim a book that fast and memorize everything." He slammed the book on the table, leaning in to look into her eyes. "Tell me the truth, Miss Fairbourne."

"I am, Professor." She looked up at him finally. "I've just always been good at studying. I'm not good at much else."

"Then explain what you knew about Padamora and Lilium Asphar." he crossed his arms across his chest, teeth clicking lightly as his words remained sharp as glass.

"I don't know, sir. Lucky guess?" She looked down at the book, but that was only half of the truth. "I just...feel like I knew the answer. I'm not even sure if I was right or not."

"You were." He confirmed. She felt a little flutter of excitement at the thought that she had guessed it right, but there was a feeling of guilt inside of her that she couldn't quite place. There were mixed feelings that settled wrong in the pit of her stomach. She stared at him for a moment before looking down at the book. He didn't say anything for a long moment before sliding it forward to her, turning his back on her as a silent dismissal.

"So did I get the points?" She asked. He didn't say anything, not right away. After a moment of no response, she grabbed the book and pushed herself to her feet. She stood there for a long moment, watching him as he made his way to his storage of potions, making himself busy to keep from looking at her. Coming to terms with the fact he would die before giving her some of the points she'd lost her house back, she made her way for the door, leaving him alone.


End file.
